


torn apart and tied together

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood and Injury, Force Healing, M/M, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experiences, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23362813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: General Hux is on the verge of death after being injured in battle. But Kylo won't let him go that readily.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 13
Kudos: 187





	torn apart and tied together

**Author's Note:**

> Another Villain Kylo Week drabble, filling the prompts "Strong Hands" and "Mortal Injury."

“I said, get out of the way!” Kylo Ren roars, raising his voice over the groans and wails of the sick and injured that filled the medical tent and causing the din to, at least temporarily, come to an unnatural standstill. The medics clustered around the bed in front of him pause, sterile-blue sheathed hands freezing around their tools and devices. Kylo can smell the blood and death splattered on their frocks, sense the fear jumping into their throats as they realized that _he_ knew that they knew who lay dying on the makeshift gurney before them. 

Yet one, a bold and less occupied member of the group, still tries to stop him. “Supreme Leader, sir, I implore you, we are doing our best to save the general’s life, you must— _grrk_ _!_ ”

The medic sinks to the floor, coughing, as Kylo brushes past him with unkind speed. The rest of the team scatters, putting up their blood-drenched hands in retreat, realizing the only thing that spared them from death or at least a sound throttling was the fact that their Supreme Leader’s priorities currently resided with a more pressing matter. 

General Hux lies stretched out on the gurney, his face still and ashen, his eyes half-open and staring. Reddish dirt is smeared across his usually pristine skin and up into his hair, his usual pert command cap toppled and lying on the ground beneath him. His immaculate dress uniform is torn open at the fasteners, soaked gabardine lying on either side of his body like heavy flaps of flayed skin. The open wound sits ugly in his middle, tearing into the spot between his navel and breastbone, flesh still burnt and bubbled from the impact of a blaster. 

If not for the intermittent beeps of the emergency monitor, attached to the general’s chest with peeling diodes, and the occasional muscle spasm, and the spittle of blood flecking Hux’s lips on each breath, Kylo would’ve thought he’d come too late. 

It still might be, if he doesn’t react quickly. 

As if maliciously reading his worries, the faint beeping suddenly spikes to a more frantic pace, and Hux’s already ghastly pallor blanches even further. 

“He—he’s coding,” one of the frightened medics squeaks out, “Supreme Leader, if we can’t treat him, the general will…”

This time, the medic isn’t interrupted by the choking crush of the Force around her neck, but instead by Kylo as he moves to press both hands flat against the gory epicenter of Hux’s wound. She stutters to a halt, eyes wide. Kylo pays little mind to her, nor any of the other medics, nor the throng of rapt, fearful attentiveness rippling through the formerly chaotic tent. His awareness shrinks, funneling into only the connection that thrummed along the tensed length of his arms—forming the bridge between Hux’s waning life and his own, powerfully pulsating core. He presses down firmly, like one might do in order to staunch the spill of blood, but his purpose is far greater than a mere stay of the inevitable fate that creeps towards Hux’s still form.

Kylo can _see_ , as his eyes close in concentration, the flow of energy as it surges into his body, guided along by his will until it spills into Hux, spiraling out along the tattered pathways of veins and the injured, collapsing channels of the spirit, invisible to the naked, Force-blind eye. Outside the power of mere medics to repair, but not beyond Kylo’s grasp.

Few things were.

He hisses between his teeth, pushing harder against Hux’s wound when the threads of the general’s life flee him, almost as if they’re afraid, more willing to face the peaceful oblivion of death than the unnatural, _impossible_ feat Kylo presents. Undaunted, with sweat beading down his forehead and soul on fire, he chases after them, wearing them down like the hunting dog does the rabbit. It’s a bold, stupid pursuit, but eventually, he overtakes them, and without hesitation his own lifeforce wreaths with Hux’s, like cords in a steel rope twining together, stronger as a pair than they ever were apart, bonded and unbreakable. If ever unraveled by some greater force than even himself, they would both fall to ruin, rust to nothing.

That is a sacrifice Kylo feels willing to make. 

A ragged gasp and one final shockwave of energy, and his eyes snap open. With his senses returning to him slowly, it takes a moment to realize the sound didn’t come from himself, but instead the body on the gurney, which has started to squirm and take in deep, increasingly confident breaths. Kylo’s numb palms lift away to find pristine skin lying beneath, with only the imprints left by the battlefield grime still on his gloves marking Hux’s healed-over flesh. 

“ _Sweet stars_ …” Kylo’s head snaps up at the sound of the Hux’s voice—something snatched from the edge of a death rattle, gradually regaining its strength and sass—and breathes a heavy sigh of relief when he sees tired green eyes survey him, filled with no lack of gratitude and disdain. “You look like death warmed over, Ren.” Hux musters a smirk. “Moreso than usual,” he adds. 

“That’s not quite as funny as you probably think it is,” Kylo chuckles anyway, despite himself. Maybe he was giddy, high on the miracle or feeling the aftereffects of loaning his lifeforce. And with all of the field medics still watching in a mixture of awe and confusion, he leaned down and laid a kiss upon the dried blood and chapped skin of Hux’s warm, familiar lips. 

Now that he and the general were so tied together, there was little need to deny it any longer, neither to themselves or others. They were one in the Force, forever. 

Kylo wouldn’t have it any other way. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


End file.
